


I'm Not That Strong

by Kitexa



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitexa/pseuds/Kitexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"For all my strengths and genius, my heart is where I'm weakest. My trust in others, my hand of friendship...always tend to come back to haunt. To hurt. They might be by my side but they'll never fill your place." Post First Class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not That Strong

I shouldn't be surprised by all this.

I really shouldn't be.

After all, I'd read your mind; knew everything about you and in turn, I knew where you stood. Who'd you'd fight for if given the choice.

I knew our time together wasn't meant to last.

But damned, selfish fool that I am, I didn't want to believe it.

I didn't want to believe the day would come for you to make that choice and that you'd side with it over me. That you'd follow your "creator's" teachings-a man who tortured and berated you until the Holocaust's end-and leave behind everything we'd worked for. Everything we'd achieved.

Our kind was still young and new in the eyes of the world and while we'd gotten off on the wrong foot I really thought between us two we could make them understand us.

Accept us.

See us for who we are, and not what.

Never what.

But that...that wasn't an option for you, was it? Peace, I mean. The world hurt you and you wanted to hurt it back; regardless of whom else went down in the process; friendships meant nothing as long as you attained your goal. Whatever that may be. I haven't a clue anymore.

I thought I knew you-as I stated previously, I'm no stranger to your thoughts, your memories or your motives. But that day...that day was the first time I realized there was some dark corner inside your head even my telepathy couldn't reach. Even without that bloody helmet.

Tell me, honestly: what did you hope to achieve when you walked away?

What did you think I would do when you disappeared with my sister and the others?

That I'd get up, brush myself off and go about my merry way as I had before we'd met?

That I'd return to New York with my remaining students and continue to teach them as if nothing ever happened?

That I wouldn't once...miss you?

I'm not that strong, Erik.

For all my strengths and genius, my heart is where I'm weakest. My trust in others, my hand of friendship...always tend to come back to haunt. To hurt.

Yes. Hurt.

Because I _am_ hurting, Erik; I have been from the moment you left me alone to face that world you so dreadfully despised. Alex, Hank, Sean...they have my back, but as it's bound to a...a damned, bloody wheelchair that isn't saying much. I'm not the same man in their eyes anymore. It burns so strongly in their eyes I needn't read their thoughts for confirmation. I'm just a patient to them; a broken man knocked free from the authoritative podium he once stood upon. They pity me...but they can't help me.

And I'm honestly not sure they ever will.

Not because they, too, will turn away one day...but because...but because they aren't you.

My best friend. My companion. My once-thought alley against society's misunderstanding eyes. They won't entertain me in chess, best me in a drinking game or ruffle my hair for the sake of being a prat.

They won't argue their case, challenging my ideals and make me fight to prove what I believe in.

They may be on my side...but they'll never fill your place.


End file.
